


Baby Blue

by heckalecki



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Destiel - Freeform, Drug Addict Castiel, F/M, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Military Backstory, Military Homophobia, Mute Castiel, Nurse Dean, Past Drug Use, Past Violence, Sabriel - Freeform, fitness instructor Sam, recovering addict Castiel
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-30
Updated: 2017-04-24
Packaged: 2018-10-13 00:13:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,435
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10502406
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/heckalecki/pseuds/heckalecki
Summary: Castiel and Dean met when Castiel was overdosing. He was a blue eyed mute and Dean was a green eyed hunk, they were a match made in heaven. Their complex relationship means Dean has to face his repressed sexuality and Castiel is just the guy to help him out.





	1. 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [coffeeandcas](https://archiveofourown.org/users/coffeeandcas/gifts).



> Hi guys,  
> I'm really looking forward to this fic and it's a pretty personal one. I've been clean going on two years now and writing about addiction no longer triggers me but is instead so therapeutic. I'm always here to talk if any of you need to talk about addiction and as a former heroin user I hope my negative experience can be positively learnt from. Writing a mute character is difficult but also come quite naturally because a lot of my family, (including myself) are hard of hearing. So yeah, this fic is personal but I feel it's a story I need to share. Love you guys, comments are always appreciated.  
> This fic is greatly influenced by the fic "Blame it on me." by Coffeeandcas which if you haven't read you should go and do so now. Thank you!

“Cas, stop it,” … “Cas, I said stop it,” … “Cas!” Dean snapped at Castiel who was scratching at his arm ritualistically. Castiel’s hand stilled and he looked down at his lap silently. Castiel hadn’t spoken for as long as Dean had known him. They lived in a spacious house with Dean’s brother Sam, whose booming voice seemed to fill the void of silence. Dean had met Castiel two years ago, at work; he had been Dean’s patient at the rehabilitation clinic he works at. Castiel had been brought in after an overdose, he had some brain damage and dexterity issues alongside the usual come-down symptoms of the rest of the addicts in there. Dean had asked Castiel to move in after he’d finished his course at the clinic and realised the intriguing and handsome young man had nowhere to live. Their relationship was complicated in the fact Dean simply refused to give it a name. They slept in the same bed, kissed, hugged, fucked and were madly in love but Dean still wouldn’t call Castiel his boyfriend, especially not in front of Sam.  
Castiel fidgeted tiresomely and rubbed his eyes with the back of his hand before “huff-ing” and practically throwing himself into Dean’s side. Dean’s arm wrapped around his waist and he rubbed his hip absent mindedly. “I have to go to work tonight, Cas. Meg’s not in, again.” Dean sighed before carefully detangling himself from Castiel and standing up. “You’ll be okay here by yourself? Sam should be back in a couple hours.” Castiel nodded his approval before signing ‘I can look after myself.’  
“Sure you can, angel.” Dean mumbled back before grabbing his work bag and heading out with a kiss on the cheek to Cas. Castiel was sat cross legged in the bed and blinked slowly as he processed the situation before him.  
Two years earlier  
“Cas, stop it,” … “Cas, I said stop it,” … “Cas!” Dean sighed and kept his tone professional, restraining the thrashing man’s arms. Castiel was kicking against him. His arms were weak and he was shaking hard. Dean was used to this, the sight of a junkie on a comedown. Dean was a nurse at a rehab centre, he was used dealing with difficult patients but Castiel was different; he didn’t speak. For the few hours Castiel had been in the facilities, Dean was finding this a blessing and a curse. On one hand he was thankful for the silence; junkies were damn loud. They would scream and beg for a hit and more often than not Dean was subject to his fair share of verbal abuse. Surprisingly not all people brought into rehab want to be there. On the other hand Dean found it hard to ask how Castiel was feeling and the therapist had given up with him after two hours of trying.  
Castiel was an attractive young man with long, shaggy dark hair and big blue eyes. They were red and hooded when he was first brought in but were now wide and frantic. He was unshaven and practically skin and bones. Dean saw the tale tell signs of heroin abuse from the track marks littering his arms. His prediction was later confirmed by the hospital results. He was brought in by local authorities who had found him sleeping rough. This wasn’t Castiel’s first time in hospital and his records had been found surprisingly quickly. 22 year old male, formerly admitted for a near fatal drug overdose. He was left with neurological injuries that affected memory, speech and processing speed. It was also noted he was left with some physical injuries including two broken ribs and more seriously, dexterity problems.  
Dean was a fair haired, freckled nurse at the rehab. He came from a military background but an injury to his left leg meant he had to discontinue service a couple weeks after his 24th birthday. He was 27 now and a (surprising) career change had led him to nursing. His knowledge of the frontline had given him basic medical training and after a couple of dedicated years he had completed his degree in nursing. He lived with his brother in a small house a couple of miles out of the city and led, for the first time in a while, a pretty normal life.

Cas fiddled with his sleeves ritualistically. He hated his arms, they reminded him of how he used tp be. They were covered in cigarette burns, scars and track marks that never did fade. He moved to the decking at the front of the house, rolling a cigarette and lighting it methodically. He took a long drag of menthol smoke, nicotine being his new drug of choice. Sam had tried a million times to get him to quit. Sam, Dean’s brother, was a fitness instructor, was always bugging him about it. He was always in the gym, whether it was at work or the home gym. The house was spacious, but Sam’s cheerful booming voice made up for it. Castiel saw Sam’s hybrid car pulling into the drive and quickly stubbed out his light, he’d told Sammy he’d quit. Sam beeped him playfully before parking and getting out.  
“I thought you quit, Cas.” Sam chided carefully, he likes to tease Dean but he couldn’t be cruel to Castiel in the same way because Castiel was more sensitive than Dean. Castiel shrugged it off and signed  
‘You’re home early.’  
Sam had learnt sign language in his spare time and had taught Dean when Cas first moved in, relishing talking to Castiel without Dean understanding. Sam answered Cas’ question with a raised eyebrow and a friendly smile. “Dean called and asked me to come home a couple hours early.” Castiel responded by rolling his eyes, Dean treated him like a kid. He went to pick up the house keys but his hand didn’t want to cooperate and they fell to the floor. Castiel blushed and held his hand pitifully. Sam didn’t respond in a condescending ‘I told you so’ way, instead he picked the keys up and unlocked the door, letting them both back in the house. Sam lay his gym bag down and picked up the dis-guarded letter on the counter.  
“Cas…what’s this?”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hiya guys, sorry this chapter has taken a little while but I've got quite a lot of the fic written in advance, hope you enjoy and if you catch the trainspotting reference lemme know ;)

Castiel attempted to snatch the letter from Sam but the taller man was much stronger than him. He huffed and crossed his arms over his chest grumpily.   
“Puppy dog eyes may work on my brother but they don’t work on me, kiddo.” Sam said with a raised eyebrow. Castiel looked down in defeat and then signed,   
‘It’s from my mother.’ Sam quirked an eyebrow in questioning and read over the short letter, his face dropping as he did.   
‘Dear Castiel,  
I am writing to inform you of your fathers passing. We are respecting his last wishes and asking you to the funeral, but we are not holding out much hope. Castiel, I hope this letter finds you alive.  
Your mother,  
Carol.’   
Sam folded the letter in half and cleared his throat. “I’m really sorry, Cas. How did they find your address?” Castiel shrugged and signed something about contacting the hospital. He hadn’t seen his father for a few years and the last time he spoke to his mother she had blamed him for his father’s cancer.   
‘I’m not going. Don’t mention it to D.’ Castiel signed quickly and grabbed the letter from Sam before turning his back and heading to his room, slamming this door in Sam’s face. Sam sighed and sat at the table. Dean would want to know. Dean worried irrationally about Castiel and it was obvious he was desperately in love with him. Sam loved Cas too, in a somewhat less homosexual way albeit.   
Sam could remember the day Dean brought Cas home, he was a skinny guy who moved slowly and lethargically, Sam put this down to his comedown. Cas was practically stuck to Dean, he wouldn’t move, even when Dean went to the bathroom Castiel would stand right outside the door like a lost puppy. Sam remembered the look on Cas’ face when he had signed ‘do you want to order pizza?’ Sam knew he could hear but he wanted him to know that he had some means of communicating with the brothers. Cas’ jaw practically dropped and beamed at Sam before nodding. Dean looked just as shocked.   
“You can sign?” Dean spat out. Since that day Dean had been learning ASL but it had been fun for the two being able to speak in a secret language of sorts, fun just to annoy Dean, Sam remember with a lopsided grin.  
Now  
Dean returned home at 3am after a quiet shift in the clinic, he let himself into the house and made his way to the bedroom where he quietly closed the door and stripped down to his boxers before admiring his sleeping beauty and sliding into the bed so as not to wake Castiel. Dean spooned him closely and wrapped his arm around his small waist, nuzzling his nose in the back of Castiel’s messy dark hair. He breathed him in, he smelt of honey and jasmine because he spent all day gardening. Dean held his smaller body close to him and peppered kisses across his shoulders and neck. He felt Castiel stir and grumble silently before shifting so he was facing him, icy blues met with bright greens.   
“Hey, gorgeous.” Dean whispered and brushed a strand of hair out of his eyes. Castiel blushed and smiled a smile reserved only for Dean. Dean pushed their plump lips together in a sweet and meaningful kiss. Castiel melted into his boyfriend’s arms, allowing himself to be totally controlled as Dean’s much stronger arms squeezed him lovingly. They couldn’t communicate as they usually did in bed as Castiel found it hard to sign at the best of times with his hands but it was near impossible when he was lying down. The two men shared knowing and intimate looks that said all the words they needed. “I love you, Cas.” Dean said out of the blue, face crumpling as he pulled Cas close. A young man had died of an overdose that night at the clinic and it had shaken Dean up considerably, that could have been Cas. Castiel drew his brows together in his signature confused adorable puppy way and Dean just hugged him impossibly close. “Sorry, baby, a boy died at the clinic tonight. It just upset me.” He mumbled. Castiel gripped onto Dean closely, hugging his waist lovingly. Castiel frowned and tugged Dean closer wanting to make him feel better. It made Castiel sad to see Dean sad. Castiel’s hands spasmed against Dean’s back ritualistically and Dean didn’t even flinch, used to it. They continued to move and it was clear Castiel wasn’t getting back to sleep anytime soon.   
“Your hands playing up, baby boy?” Dean asked and took a firm grip of his wrists. Cas breathed out through his nose and nodded. Castiel groaned a little and shifted onto his back, rubbing his eyes to waken himself. Dean did the same and moved to hover over his partner. “Why are you so damn cute?” He mumbled and nuzzled at his neck, Cas giggled quietly. His voice was high and croaky with disuse, the only time he used it was to laugh or moan. Dean pecked kisses down his neck and to his chest. Castiel was a slim man who had a lithe untoned body that was soft and shivered under Dean’s touch.   
“Need to fatten you up, angel.” Dean frowned, wondering if Castiel still forgot to eat, his memory very damaged. Castiel looked a little glazed over and Dean realised that he had been leaning into Cas’ crotch which was growing harder. Castiel let out a shaky breath and Dean looked up with a smirk. Castiel peered down under blue orbs and gave him huge puppy dog eyes that made Dean swoon. Dean nuzzled his neck and gripped his arm, feeling the bumps of track marks on his arm.  
Two years ago  
No one tells you about the reality of addiction. Not the gross, gritty reality of a comedown. No one tells you about the way a junkie on a comedown loses control of their bodily functions. No one tells you how a junkie on a comedown wails like a baby for one more hit and begs for death when they can’t get it. Dean’s used to this behavior at work and when he was assigned Castiel he thought it’d be the regular Friday night. Cas at first displayed all the signs of a heroin addict on a comedown. He had tremors and cold sweats, his worst symptom seemed to be abdominal cramp. The dark haired man was curled onto his side, gripping his stomach. He wasn’t shouting and cursing, instead he was making small keening noises as he dealt with the pain. Dean of course, felt sympathy for the man. He was only young and looked absolutely starved. Dean’s job was to comfort and watch over the patients until they were safe enough to join the rest of the patients at the clinic. Dean was sat by Castiel’s bed.   
“I know, buddy.” He said softly. Castiel was staring at the wall, his long hair falling in front of his eyes. Dean had been told that Castiel was ‘mentally slow’, a term that bothered him more than a little and one that he wouldn’t necessarily put to Cas. He was a sensitive boy with brain damage so Dean decided to go easy on him. Dean was a trained professional and had dealt with people like Castiel before and knew how to speak to them.   
Two hours later the real symptoms kicked in. Heroin makes you constipated, Castiel was no longer constipated. Dean had managed to get him to the adjoining toilet and was dabbing sweat off of his forehead; the man was practically passed out. Dean cleaned him, he wasn’t easily ‘grossed out’; he had practically raised his little brother and he had seen much worse in the army. He changed Castiel into cleaner clothes and lifted the pliable man back to his hospital bed. Castiel had thrown up bile, seemingly having no food inside of him to chuck. Dean tried to set him down but found Castiel firmly gripped to him, he sighed and gave up, instead he moved himself to sit on the bed and let the smaller man curl up on his lap. He looked fucking tiny. Dean couldn’t believe he was 22, he looked no older than 16. Dean, rubbed his back firmly and the man made small mews of appreciation.   
“You’re okay, Cas.” He said quietly, into his ear.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hiya guys, hope you enjoy this chapter and I hope the tenses aren't confusing as there is the occasional flash back. Anyway sorry this one is a little shorter. Next chapter should be a lot longer!

Dean’s hand moves and pressed against the bulge in Castiel’s boxers. Castiel mewled against Dean’s touch; he pushed up against Dean’s toned chest and breathed heavily against his neck. Dean carefully kneaded Cas through the thin fabric of his underwear.   
“You like that, baby boy?” He mumbled and Castiel nodded, rolling his hips towards the contact. Castiel fit comfortably into Dean’s hand being slightly below averagely sized, not that it bothered Dean. Dean on the other hand was hung, definitely the biggest Castiel had ever taken, not that he was that sexually experienced. Dean was growing hard in his pants. Castiel was panting now and bucking up into Dean’s hand rapidly. They fucked like rabbits and Sam was thankful his room was across the house, not to say he hadn’t heard his fair share of ‘intimacy’ which was normally met with an awkward silence over breakfast.  
Cas was a effeminate guy, and that was a huge turn on for Dean. Cas kissed Dean’s nose sweetly as he moved his hand down to touch him through his boxers. Cas pulled away and stood up, eliciting a whine from Dean. Cas smirked and dropped his boxers, turning and bending over to pick them up so Dean had a full view of his ass. Dean was practically salivating.   
Castiel looked beautiful, his shaggy almost black hair was curly and tousled around his flushed cheeks. He climbed less than elegantly onto Dean’s lap and looked up shyly, playing coy and pretending that he couldn’t feel Dean’s hard cock pressing against his ass. Dean groaned softly as Cas sat down and bucked his hips up instinctively. Castiel pressed soft and slow kisses into his neck as Dean ground upwards slowly; this went on for about ten minutes until Dean felt Cas breathing heavily and slowly against his neck.  
“Cas? Baby did you fall asleep?” There was no reply and Cas was still a dead weight in Dean’s arms. Dean chuckled softly and sighed, plying the sleeping man off of him and ignoring his own erection as he dressed Cas with his own soft t-shirt. Dean tucked him under the sheets and kissed his head gently, brushing back his fringe and tucking it behind his heavily pierced ear.  
“Sleep well, angel” He mumbled against his skin before standing up to take one of many cold showers. It was just going 5 am and Sam was already up and whistling cheerily to himself.   
Dean finished his shower and wrapped a towel around his waist. He was an attractive man and looked young for his late twenties, almost thirties. He had shortish blonde hair that he still thought looked strange on him after years of buzzed short hair in the army. He walked with a noticeable limp because of the break he had to his right leg he had when a car bomb had exploded near him. It used to bother him but he was pretty much at peace with himself now. He had a few scars on his chest from his years in service and had a dog tag tattooed on his right peck to show dedication the army.  
Dean brushed his teeth and rubbed his eyes, he worked alternate weeks and was off now, a schedule he was thankful for because he could catch up on sleep and more importantly look after Cas. Castiel wasn’t an ‘invalid’, as he insisted but Dean still felt all of the maternal bones in his body wanting to look after him. Dean had a natural affinity for caring which was one of the reasons he became a nurse at the rehab clinic, he actually cared. He was invested in his patients and wanted to see them recover.   
Two years ago  
“Cas I brought you some-Cas?!” Dean all but dropped the tray he was holding as he rushed over to where Castiel was cowering in the corner, he was sitting slumped against the wall covered in his own sick and Dean felt his heart drop to the pit of his stomach when he saw a bottle of pain medication discarded on the floor next to the boy. Thankfully, the bottle was still relatively full and as Dean kicked it away Castiel’s eyes fluttered slightly.  
Three hours and one stomach pump later Castiel was wide awake and sitting up in his bed. His whole body shook and Dean couldn’t take his eyes off of the floor. He felt so guilty. He had failed, he had failed to keep his patient safe but more importantly he’d failed to look after Cas. Cas, the terrified junkie he was supposed to be protecting from himself. Dean didn’t know where Cas had got the painkillers. Patients are searched on the way in and there was no way Cas could have got them from the hospital. Dean had gone to a meeting with his boss and had expected to have a stern a talking to but he was instead told to ‘go easy’ on himself and given a pat on the back for dealing with the overdose.   
Now  
Dean rubbed his chin, his stubble was far too long to be considered as stubble now and normally he would have shaved but Cas wouldn’t let him, he had a habit of tugging onto it subconsciously and rubbing at it whilst they curled up on the sofa. Dean chuckled softly at the thought and put his razor down before heading into the dining room.  
“Good morning, sunshine!” Sam beamed loudly. Dean groaned and rubbed his temples with a small smile, Sam was always a morning person.   
“M’rnin.” Dean smiled gruffly and sat down at the table, Sam lay a cup of Joe in front of him. Dean grunted his appreciation and drank the bitter liquid quickly.   
“Don’t you know the date?”  
Dean looked up with a frown, before his eyes went wide and he slammed the cup down. “Jesus, has it really been two years?”


End file.
